Conversations in Dull Light
by Dean Moxley
Summary: I know my dad likes to talk, I just never know why he doesn't change the light bulb in the kitchen. In flickers on and off, gives off such a low glow, I don't know why we have conversations in dull light.
1. Chapter 1

His dad brings home take-out that night.

He hadn't seen him in a while, maybe since yesterday morning or the night before that. Jughead can't complain about not seeing him though; he's hardly home himself. When he's not at Pop's, typing his hands away until he feels the dull, but familiar ache, and stuffing his face with burgers and milkshakes that are racking up on his tab, he's usually with Toni, showing her pieces of his work and enjoying the easy going banter that naturally flows between them. Jughead spending more time with the female Serpent wasn't something he planned, but seeing as he could no longer spend time with a girl he desperately craved for, being around her proved to be just as fulfilling in a different way. Over the weeks, he's grown attached to her, surprised to find out how similar they really are.

She once joked that they were probably twins separated at birth. He laughed in agreement.

But in this dingy kitchen, sitting together with cold Chinese in styrofoam plates in front of them, it was his dad's favorite place to talk. When Jughead was younger, he found out it was because the fridge was only steps away, and the fridge used house several bottles of alcohol. It was a reassuring thing for FP; if things ever got too intense, he could easily turn around and grab a beer from the fridge to drink away any woes.

Since his release, Jughead took it upon himself to replace the alcohol in the fridge with several bottles of lemonade. A somber FP drinks them without complaint.

Jughead was in the middle of telling FP about an amusing conversation he had with Toni the day before, when the pensive look on his dad's face made Jughead lower his fork mid-bite, cocking his head to the side to address his obviously troubled dad.

"How old are you now?" The question was sudden, but seemingly innocent in nature, so Jughead wasn't confused by the abrupt change their conversation took.

"16, 17 in a few more months."

FP smiled. "I was what, maybe a few years older than you, not by much though, maybe a year or two, when I fell in love with a woman who I never thought I'd ever feel for in such a way." 

Jughead rolled his eyes. It was funny. When things had been okay and Jughead slipped and mentioned Betty in front of his dad, FP always found a way to slip in the story of how he met Jughead's mom. It was… cute, he'll admit, but he's heard it so many times before, he could retell the story to a T.

Hell, when he was younger and Jellybean had finally learned how to string together complex sentences, she had been obsessed with the story of how her mom and dad fell in love. Jughead remembered how Jellybean would crawl into his dad's lap and smile a toothless smile and beg him to tell her again how they came to be.

"Yes dad, I've heard several time how you fell in love with mom, I was there every time you told Jellybean, I-"

"Ah, but that's the thing. It wasn't your mom."

Such a simple message, such a simple sentence, but it held so much meaning it disrupted Jughead's entire thought process. He looked at his dad as if he didn't know who was speaking at this point. "What?"

FP took a swing of the lemonade Jughead had set aside for him. "It wasn't your mom that I fell in love with when I was your age, Jughead," FP caught sight of his son's furrowed brows and sighed, "but don't think I that didn't love you mom at all. I did and still do." 

Jughead hesitated, almost scared to continue the conversation. For a second, he thought about not acknowledging the change in conversation at all. He could ignore it, but… he was curious. "Well... who was it?" 

"I met her when I was very young, a child. I hated her because she would look at me as if I was trash, literal trash. Nose stuck in the air, she was a walking headache, Jug, just horrible..." the chuckle he gave out signaled to Jughead that he meant it in good humor and gave a small smile in response. "Her parents weren't around much, at least from what I knew. Maybe they were present, just absent in her life, who knows. Alice was such a reserved person, it was hard to get anything out of her."

The name that slipped out had Jughead freeze and cock his head to the side. "Alice? As in, Alice Cooper? Betty's mom? You were in love with Alice Cooper?" The notion was incredulous. Of course Jughead had known that Alice Cooper had ties with the Serpents ever since Betty published the article the Black Hood gave her, and maybe had an inkling that a possible '-ship' had happened between Mrs. Cooper and his dad way-back-when, but to have loved her?

FP nodded, shrugging away his son's shocked face. "Her becoming a Serpent wasn't a surprise for me; we were pretty... close around the time my old man kicked me out, I knew it was only a matter of time before she got her own tattoo and did her own Dance." The way he described their relationship had Jughead raise a brow, but FP brushed it off. "She was always by my side, closer to me than Tall Boy is now. I relied on her, Jug, depended on her so much… I-I took her for granted."

FP pushed around the forgotten chicken on his plate, looking for something to occupy his hands and eyes. "We got into this stupid argument sometime around our junior year of high school, something about 'commitment' and going 'public' with that thing we had."

"Things were easier between us ever since she completed her initiation, but… it changed. She wanted to be with me and at my side all the time, not like a clingy girlfriend or anything, but… just someone I could rely on." He shook his head, obviously uncomfortable with digging up old memories

"We had a terrible argument that day and we were in such a bad place. She got herself arrested a few days later," FP motioned to the scrapbook Jughead had on the couch. He was referring to the article Betty had published from the Black Hood. "It was for something stupid- petty theft- but it was kind of a wake-up call for me. I knew that I cared enough for her to want better for her than being involved in constant crimes and being my forever-alibi when I got into trouble, but I really didn't know how much that care went. I didn't even bother trying to figure it out," he shook his head and bit his lip, looking out towards the window. FP was thoughtful for a second before he turned back to look at him. "I broke things off with her and forced her to keep her affiliation with the Serpents discreet, to gradually ease away her association."

"It was hard, god dammit, it was. I had grown so used to this woman being such an important part of my life, it was almost as if I couldn't function the way I once had, you know? But I did it for her. I cut off all contact with Alice that summer. Didn't see her for almost two months. Now, two months may not seem like a long time Jug, but two months is enough to create a whole other persona, and that's exactly what Alice did."

His dad was quiet for a second, but he crossed his arms and pursed his lips, almost debating to continue, but pressed on nonetheless. "It was senior year and Tall Boy had casually mentioned that she had stopped coming to gang meetings and stopped visiting the boys at the Wyrm. Of course, I was so busy with the shit I had intentionally got myself into to forget about Alice, I hadn't noticed either."

"It was Fred that told me she had gotten into a relationship with this tall, pudgy, fat-faced nobody from one of her classes. Turns out that fat-faced nobody was Hal Cooper. If you think the man doesn't look like much now, you weren't missing anything at all in high school." FP took the moment to take another drink of his lemonade. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued. "I think that's why I underestimated their relationship so much. Cooper-boy was everything Alice, and I for that matter, wasn't, you know? He lived in a nice white house in the Northside with pretty blue shutters, always wore stupid sweater vests and bowties, it was disgusting, Jughead."

He felt he had stayed quiet for far too long. "I.. I bet." It was all he could offer.

But his dad continued as if he hadn't said anything in the first place. "The year dragged on and so did their relationship. I saw her a few weeks before prom, waiting outside Pop's with her harpy of a mother. I… I don't know what came over me Jug, but I had the need to talk to her, you know, knock some sense into that girl. Tell her she was making a mistake… yadda, yadda, yadda-"

Jughead raised a brow. "Mistake? What mistake did she make?"

FP scoffed. "Cooper-boy wasn't right for her and we both knew it. I told her…" he sighed, "... I said some things I shouldn't have, and she smacked me, WHAM!, clean across the face!" He swung at the air in front of him, barking out a laugh that didn't quite reach his face. His laugh died out quickly, and he cleared his throat. "It was Tall Boy that told me they married a few months after graduation."

The small kitchen was filled with a thick silence. The only light in the kitchen flickered. "Do you..." Jughead was hesitant, not sure if the question he wanted to ask scared him more than the answer his father would give, "regret breaking up with her?"

Jughead didn't know why, but a small part of him, the small part that missed Jellybean and his mother wished his dad would instantly say 'no'. By saying 'no', it would mean that his dad wouldn't trade the life he gave to his children for a love he purposely lost years ago. It was a sort of comfort that he wanted-no, needed- to feel. Looking at his dad, FP cocked his head to the side a little and frowned, thoughtful for a split second.

But his anxiety was over a scenario he knew his dad was never take. Shaking his head, FP reached across the table to pat his shoulder, smiling sadly. "I don't regret leaving her, because if I hadn't left her, I would have never met your mom, and if I hadn't met your mom, Jug..." FP looked over at him, his eyes holding such sadness that had Jughead's own eyes water, "then I would have never had you or your sister."

Jughead let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, a single tear streaming down his face as he chuckled the moment away. FP gave him another soft smile before he brought his heavy hand to gently wipe away his sole tear.

"But…" FP start cautiously, already knowing that his son was in a delicate state. He wasn't done lecturing him for the night, no where close, and he wanted Jughead to be in the right frame of mind when he asked his questions.

"But I'm not going to lie, a part of me always plays with the 'what-if's'. What if I had done what she asked and recognized our relationship? Would we have still been together? If I had pulled my head out of my ass, I knew I would have wanted out of the Serpents. Hell, I might have even married her, you know?" The confession was enough to literally shock Jughead, have his hand and head shake a little, but FP's waving of his hand hold him he wasn't done.

"I always wanted to protect her, and I don't think that would have changed had we of still been together. Maybe protect her from the Serpents and a life that I knew would always put us in danger. I wouldn't have wanted that for her. She was so dependant on my opinion at the time, I don't think she would have argued the decision... but I don't know, Jughead."

Where had this come from? He remember being happy at the sight of food and had been content with retelling his dad the uneventful events that happened to him today, and while the question that brought them here seemed to be innocent, Jughead didn't know what brought them to this in the first place. "Why are you telling me this, dad?"

Suddenly, the soft expressions his father had been wearing seemingly evaporated. Pushing his chair back to stand up, FP made a beeline for the fridge. Though he didn't show it, Jughead spotted the slight tick that pulsed on his dad's jaw when he opened the fridge to the sight of nothing but more lemonade.

"I had an interesting conversation with Tall Boy today. One of your guys might of slipped and mentioned something to him. Something about a blonde drug runner taking up residence in Greendale?"

Jughead broke eye contact with FP, choosing instead to stare at the single noodle he left on his plate.

He heard his dad release a heavy breath before he sat back down in front of him. "I'm bringing this up, Jughead, because you're going through the same thing. I know you're proud of what you've done with the Serpents-I can tell you've come a long way with them-but it's going to get to a point where you'd want something else. Something that will keep you grounded."

He whipped his head up to refute his dad faster than he could breathe. "What I'm doing with the Serpents and Sweet Pea and Toni is keeping me grounded, dad. I always have to stay focused when-"

FP scowled. "That's not what I mean, boy. I don't mean a life of constant crimes, of drug running, drinking, and doing drugs, because that's the life the Serpents will give you. That's the life they've given me. I made an attempt to break away from them, that's why Fred and I started the construction company, because I wanted better for my family. Your mom gave me a reason to do better because she had given me two babies."

Even though he often heard the story of how they met, his dad rarely ever mentioned his mom. At her mention, Jughead once again brought his eyes down to his plate, refusing to acknowledge the wavering of his dad's voice.

"I didn't want them surrounded by what I grew up in, I was already to deep in. If I had made an escape like Alice did in high school, things would be different, but I couldn't leave. I made mistakes and chose the life of the Serpents because that's all I knew. I didn't try hard enough to try something else, to even attempt the life of a normal Northsider, and I paid the price for it. I lost your mom. I lost your sister, and goddamnit Jughead, I'm going to eventually lose you."

Jughead scowled. "You won't lose me, I'm right here! I've always been here! All I want to do is make you proud!"

"That's the thing, Jughead! Follow me around and make me proud, but by what? By doing the same things that I've done that made me disappointed in myself? That disappointed everyone who I ever cared about?"

"Well, what would you want me-"

"I want you to go to college! Damn Jug, we've had this conversation before!" Remembering their brief talk on the meadow field and what exactly he said to Jughead, FP growled. "Me telling you to 'keep writing' and nothing more has got to be one of the worst things I've ever told you. I should have never allowed you to stay Jug. I... damn it!" In his frustration, he slammed his hand down onto the already wobbly table, sending his forgotten lemonade toppling over.

FP pointed an angry finger at the boy. "I let down Fred by going behind his back, by doing things I thought was going to help me, our family, out. In the end, I cut him short and I let that man down. I was devastated and brought that devastation home with me. Your mom tried, damn that woman, she did. She dealt with my failures, as a husband and as a father, longer than any woman should ever have and she snapped. I let my wife down and I let my daughter down. The Serpents have always been there for me, when everybody was cutting me out of their lives. They took me in and I was finally able to become stable again, but my being stable didn't always mean I was doing good."

Making the motion again to speak, FP silenced Jughead with a shake of his head and pursed lips, hand brought up to his face to show Jughead he wasn't finished and wouldn't be interrupted.

"You have, or sorry, had something with your girl," it was an intentionally dig and Jughead knew it. He shot his eyes up to his father and glared at him, his nostrils flaring and eyes becoming red-rimmed, but FP didn't stop. He was gouging his son's reaction and had finally struck a fresh nerve he had made an effort to avoid striking before.

Not tonight though.

"You're so quick to cut her out of your life when the smallest inconveniences happen, but why? Because it's hard?" He gave out a dry laugh. "I have a newsflash for you Jughead, relationships are hard, especially when it's with someone you care so damn much for!"

Jughead opened his mouth to argue, eyes hard and red and heart feeling heavy in his chest, but FP beat him to it. "She is her mother's daughter; every time I see her, I see Alice and everything she's been through and everything she's done to make a better life for her and her daughters. You are my son, don't you get it? When I look into the mirror, all I see are mistakes that I've done, so when I look at you Jughead, and everything you're doing, my god, man, what do you think I see?" He cried.

The kitchen light took the moment for burn out for a second before snapping back on, albeit in a dimmer light. It added on to the effect the silence fell over them, nothing breaking through the insufferable silence, not even the heaving breaths both men were taking.

Jughead wouldn't admit it, but his father's words cut him deeper than he liked. Jughead liked to think what he was doing and where he was going with the Serpents was a good thing and would benefit him down the road. Benefit him how? He didn't really know, but he was sure there was something other than companionship and satisfaction from the thrill he constantly experienced now. To hear his decision, a decision he was proud of and made with good conscious, was something that made his dad disappointed in him hurt. A lot.

"Everything her mother was to me, her daughter is to you. She was, maybe still is, devoted to you, Jughead. She loves you and you're ignoring it! You're pushing her and a potential for a good life away, something I clearly can't give you, for the Serpents?" He was becoming angrier and angrier the more he continued. With his clothes and hair disarrayed, even Jughead knew better than to interrupt his father, so he bit his tongue, ignored the taste of blood, and fought back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Are you going to be satisfied in fifteen years, when you've passed thirty? Nothing but the same shit to come home to? What about forty-five, sixty? How full and how happy will you be if you continue down this track?"

Jughead licked his lips, washing out the taste of metal. "What about you?! Aren't you going through the same thing? Are you happy?!"

A beat. Another flicker.

"You want the truth? No. To be honest with you Jughead, I'm actually pretty fucking sad. I lost my chance to be happy when I decided to let Alice go. Most guys, they're not so lucky, but I got a second chance of happiness when I got married and had two kids, but guess what? I lost my second chance when your mom left. Now, I'm going to lose any chance of any sort of happiness if, in the next twenty years, the Southside Serpents are still around being led by Forsythe Pendleton "Jughead" Jones III!"

For the umpteeth time that night, Jughead baulked. Jughead tried his best to be anything but oblivious, but it seemed being unaware came naturally to him. He never really put much thought into the future. He was almost afraid to. He loved his family, his dad more so because he was still here, and was grateful of everything he'd done was for him. It wasn't done in the best of way, but it was done with honest intentions. Maybe his dad was making sense. What was Jughead's goal with the Serpents? Of course he saw himself having a future with the Serpents, but… a long-time future?

Where was Jughead Jones going to be doing when he was FP's age? He wasn't sure.

Jughead sighed, slumping his shoulders in defeat and hung his head. He brought his hands to rub the sleep that was crawling up on him. "All of this... all this conversation, why? I'm only sixteen dad, I'm so young-..."

"Don't you get it Jug? You're too fucking young to know so damn much! You've experienced so much at such a young age, the only thing 'young' about you is your age. Your experiences make you as old as me, hell, maybe even older. Think about it, in only five years, you've experienced abandonment, abuse, homelessness, and committed and witness crimes that no child should ever have had to commit or witness. Lived a life no child should endure." FP leaned back in his seat, ignoring the groan the chair was giving, tired eyes meeting tired eyes. "A life I gave to you, Jug."

For a second, he took the time to really look at his dad and see how badly he aged. Sure, he had to remind himself that FP would be pushing fifty in couple years, but so was Betty's dad, and Hal looked to be in great shape. His hair was sprinkled with white hairs of stress, the scruff that managed to grow by the hour held more of the gray and black, advancing his age by at least five years. The cracks and crevices of age that weighed down his face had managed to get deeper. His dad hadn't looked like this when his mom was still around, didn't look like this when everything went to hell.

"But some of the other guys, they've managed to have some sort of life outside the Serpents, I know Fogarty looks after his girlfriend's kid sisters, takes them out and everything. They're Northsiders too." It was a weak excuse of a defense and they both knew it.

"And what do you think they're gonna pick when things get rough? Remember, Serpents don't chase, they wait. We're going to be here forever, but his girl and her sisters might not be. When things get rough and they have to choose a life of freedom or a relationship with a man constantly involved with crime, what are they going to pick?"

The room was quiet for a second, the light fluttered for two. Father watching son and son watching father. Just as Jughead had done, FP took the time to really look at his only boy. FP had to admit, for such a young man, Jughead was strong. Not only was the boy packing on the muscle the more he hung around Sweet Pea and Fogarty, but strong in his mental and emotional ability. For this, he'd have to give credit to Betty- Jughead wouldn't be at this level had it not been for that girl.

FP had honestly only seen that kind of reliance and dependence the two teens had on one another in one other couple; himself and the mother of his son's ex-girlfriend. He meant what he told Jughead: he doesn't regret leaving Alice, but he regrets continuing to live his life the way always had, a sad stalemate of a move.

"Take Tall Boy, Jug. That man has been with me since we were kids too, and while we're on the same place now, we've chosen different ways to get where we are now. That man ain't got kin that wants anything to do with him. He doesn't have a worthwhile woman waiting at his trailer, doesn't have any kids to call his own. He's married to the Serpents and will give his life to us. That what you want, Jughead? Because in choosing us, that's what you're getting."

It was at this particular moment the light, the one that always seemed to break when his dad was having a one-on-one with him, finally burned out. It covered both men in black, and they would be arguing in complete darkness had it not been for the faint light the billboard outside their window provided.

But Jughead was glad for the protection. He was glad his father couldn't see the look of distress the idea of choosing between something he had now become so used to and returning to something he abandoned in the first place on his face. "What do you want me to do then, dad? You want me to go back to Betty? She doesn't want anything to do with me, not after the way I treated her the night of your retirement party. Leave the Serpents? I... I can't leave them now, I'm already-"

"Too deep in? I know, Jughead, I know," once again reaching out towards him, FP grasped his shoulders and shook him. Not hard, but firm enough to jolt Jughead out of his somber expression, "and guess what? You're only going to get in deeper."

Their conversation came to an end in the form of a knock on the door, revealing Tall Boy and Wolff. 'There's been an issue,' Wolff said. 'I think you'd better come look at this, boss.'

Jacket in hand, FP was almost out the door, but not before giving Jughead a hard glare and heavy sigh. In the look alone, Jughead read several things, but he knew what he meant. Instead of voicing what he really meant to say, FP settled on a quick, "find a replacement bulb in the bathroom. I'll fix it when I get back."

Jughead knew his dad wouldn't, but he'd look for a new one nonetheless.

As he shuffled through the cluttered cupboard in the tiny bathroom, Jughead thought of everything his had had told him. He'll admit, some point his dad had made did make sense the more he thought about it, and his only argument was that he didn't know how to live a normal life when his life was anything but normal. Maybe at one point his life was okay, but in the end, his dad had been right.

Alone in that kitchen table, twirling a new bulb he managed to find, he recalled the night he and Archie went on his first run, how differently Archie had pictured their lives. He said something about New York, dismissing the idea of them in college, but rather working, him making ends meet as a musician and Jughead scraping by writing his books. Betty and Veronica wouldn't be far away, rooming together on Park Avenue, because Archie knew none of them could be far away from the other. At this point, they all depended on each other too much to cut off any sort of contact.

But that was Archie's vision of an ideal future. What was Jughead's?

He'd be honest, it was something different, darker.

He pictured his life to be void of any sort of happy emotion because Jughead wasn't used to happy emotions. Everyone else would have moved away from Riverdale to create lives this tiny little town couldn't handle. Unlike what Archie had pictured them doing, Jughead saw better for the redhead, even going off to college to play football somewhere on the East coast on a scholarship. For Jughead, the power duo would still be together, but he saw Veronica heading West. He couldn't picture any other place she'd live in other than California and live in an elaborate flat in Hollywood. For some reason, it suited her.

As for Betty, she'd come to forget all about him. She'd probably move with Veronica to California, seeing as those two girls were practically attached at the hip. With a drive as brilliant as her mind, she'd attend a prestigious school, something like UCLA or Pepperdine along the coast. He pictured her happy and in love with a man that looked just like her: a mixture of pink lips, yellow hair, and striking blue eyes. She hated the word, but the only word that came to mind when he thought of Betty was 'perfect'. It didn't change anything when he thought of her life. Her husband would be the perfect man; everything that Jughead wasn't, he would be. He'd have the perfect job and be the perfect person, he'd give her everything associated with the word: two perfect blond, blue-eyed babies, a perfect golden retriever, a perfect two story-house with perfect blue shutters and a white picket fence wrapped around the front lawn.

Her life would be perfect because it wouldn't be with him. What got to him, what made it feel like his soul was being crushed, was how easy it was for Jughead to picture her life without him in it. The first argument they had as a couple months ago suddenly popped up in his mind and he grimaced.

In the heat of the moment, he recalled how his frustration and annoyance at Betty for throwing him a birthday party had muddled his sober ability to process and weigh the effect his words would have, and it wasn't until he saw the blank expression on her face had he realized what he said.

"We're running on borrowed time."

He had meant it as a gibe then, something that would hurt her after the way she offended him, and while he knew she forgave him for all the stupid things he had foolishly said that night, he couldn't help but feel as if she felt that particular insult right to her core.

But for Jughead? He'd live alone, still in his dad's trailer, his childhood home, because he wouldn't have the heart to part with it. Unfortunately, it would mean a constant presence with other Serpents, taking up a usual spot at the Wyrm and drinking the rest of his life away while finding sober time to write his melancholy feelings into a manuscript he'd never publish. He might take up with Toni, not with the intention of marrying her or anything of the sort, but just to be around a pseudo sort of something, even if Toni herself wasn't that into him.

His pictured life didn't include a life partner, didn't include children, didn't include anything that usually gave people a sense of completion and meaning, and while he would argue every individual could live with or without different needs, there was something about his life taking this particular path that didn't feel right to him.

His dad had been right. He might not of been exposed to so many happy memories in his childhood, but did it dictate his potential future? Why should his shitty childhood automatically rob him of any chance of remote happiness? Jughead found that completion and happiness were two different things: one thing that brought one was good, but one thing that brought both was even better.

But what was completion? To Jughead, the feeling of other Serpents, of Sweet Pea, Fogarty, Toni, and several of the younger members looking up to him to lead them was a feeling of being complete. It gave him a sense of worth. Just simply knowing they trusted him enough to listen to his words, believe him, and follow him made him feel strong and competent and worthy, but it didn't make him happy.

Happiness? Happiness was he and Archie sharing a room. For once, he felt like he was a part of a good family, a long lost son of the Andrews'. Playing video games, doing homework together, simply being brothers together was happiness. Happiness was Pop's Shoppe and his dad, sharing milkshakes and talking of when times were happy and future times that would be happy.

Happiness was Betty. Just being around her made him happy, sitting in his truck holding hands, reading over her shoulder at what Ted Hughes poem caught her eye that day, her playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck when he would doze off on his dad's couch was happiness. But even more importantly, the happiness she gave him completed him.

At the thought of Betty, Jughead felt flushed. He won't lie, at night, his dreams were usually a mix of lewd fantasies of Betty dressed in nothing but his heavy Serpent jacket and replayed memories of sweet and affectionate moments spent together. Despite one beginning with innocent and happy intentions, Jughead was only a man, so regardless of how his dreams began, they almost always finished with hushed groans, a silent gasp, and a soiled rag.

But on occasion, there were always dreams that woke Jughead in a cold sweat. The day he discovered his father was being let out of jail early, Jughead had finally felt like everything was on the way of being set right, on it's way of being stable. That night, instead of dreaming of a wanton Betty waiting for him in his bed, he dreamt of a different Betty, an older one, abdomen swollen with her left hand stroking the obvious lump, a small but significant ring sitting prettily on her fourth finger. A larger hand, more grizzeled and weathered, enveloped her own and moved to touch another area of her belly together.

The hand belonged to him.

After he wiped the sweat off his face and his racing heart slowed, Jughead cried himself to sleep for the first time in a long time.

He analyzed this particular dream and his interesting reaction to it a few days later, when his hand somehow found its way wrapped around a forgotten liquor bottle and he could no longer explain the warm feeling his body felt. Jughead becoming a teenage father… it wouldn't happen, definitely not now and certainly not any time soon. He and Betty never got to that point in their relationship- they almost had, but never got the chance. They weren't together anymore, and Jughead didn't have a line of lovely ladies waiting to be his next paramour.

But being a teenage father was one thing, insanely fucking difficult, but one thing nonetheless. The other comparison was being a teenage father while a part of a gang that was only growing more unruly and dangerous the longer he was part of it.

The notion was harrowing, and Jughead deduced that while his being a part of the Serpents while being made a father was indeed distressing, it was the potential of it becoming a reality that caused his tears.

Jughead wasn't born to FP while he was with the Serpents, but he was raised while he was. He would never admit it to anyone, nor ever say it aloud, but his father was right. The shitty life Jughead had now was the result of FP mixing in with the Serpents.

Could he pictured himself as a Serpent? Not what he is now, not what his dad was, but a full-fledged Serpent? Someone like Tall Boy?

Tall Boy didn't have kids, therefore, he could invest himself wholly, not having to worry about ruining the life of a young child. He didn't have a woman, so he didn't have to worry about hurting her feelings when he stepped out to have a 'fun night'' with the other Snakes. His dad had been right. For Tall Boy, this is all he ever knew and all he would ever really need. He didn't need a woman or a child to call his own, for logical reasons too. If he had a family, feelings of attachment would prove to be a drawback in the dangerous kind of work Tall Boy was used to doing. Being single, unattached, was ideal in their business. Was it fulfilling for Tall Boy? Maybe. The man certainly didn't look like he was hating his life or regretting anything he passed up on when he was surrounded by a cloud of marijuana smoke or a beautiful Mary Jane bunched up at his side to match.

But not every case was like Tall Boy. He was on one extreme end of the 'Serpent Loyalty' scale. While a majority of the other guys tended to hit around the mark too, there were the few stragglers on the opposite end. Porkchop, one of the older members his dad knew, was the exact opposite of Tall Boy. Porkchop, according to his father, was a major asset to the Serpents because of his intimidating size. The Serpent's tended to gain a lot of ground, win a lot of fights with Pork on their side, but apparently he couldn't bear the pain he'd put his wife through if he were to not come home one day. For years, his wife was all he needed, but when he was reaching his later years, the prospect of having a family appealed to him more and more each day. So, with a firm handshake, a black eye, broken ribs, and a split lip, Pork left to have a family, something he wouldn't allow himself to do while a part of the Serpents, and lived happily ever after.

For some reason, Jughead didn't know what it was, but Pork's story sounded a lot more appealing. It wasn't as liberating or as carefree as Tall Boy's, but it was definitely more domestic, safe and secure. A home that was safe and secure was one thing Jughead never had as a child, but if he ever found himself a father, as a single parent or part of a committed relationship, he would make sure the home he would give his baby would be everything he never had.

His mind wasn't quite set yet, so he needed the extra opinion. He picked up his cellular and dialed a number he was quickly growing fond of.

Picking up on the fourth ring, the weary voice that answer wasn't happy. "Shit Jones, what could you possibly want at two in the morning?"

"We need to talk, Toni."


	2. Chapter 2

_Unbeta'd. Enjoy._

* * *

Days of debate had him sitting where he was now, at six in the morning with several empty cups of coffee before him.

Naturally, Jughead would argue that he was a morning person, an "early bird", if his biological clock didn't insist on waking him at six in the morning every day after finally letting him sleep at three the same day. Maybe it was the two or three hours that he actually slept that put in in that rare in-between of being an owl or lark.

Jughead himself had no issue on the matter; he sleeps when he sleeps and wakes when he wakes. If it wasn't his unnatural addiction to coffee and the dark circles around his eyes, he wouldn't have to be constantly hounded by the girl who now sat directly across from him, glaring when the waitress poured him his seventh cup.

"You know, if you have Mags bring you another container of creamer or fill your cup again, I swear Jughead, you're going to have a heart attack."

"I countdown the minutes until it does." Another one of his tasteless jokes that fell flat, he gave Toni a small grin when he changed the subject. "How'd your date with the Northside chick go?"

"I've never been so confused by a person all my life," Toni sighed, "it's like one second she's giving me cute little remarks that make me feel nice before she completely sets me on fire with insults."

"Well, I could pretend to be shocked, but I'm not." He joked.

It was the faint curve of the corner of her lip that told Jughead she was exhausted.

Now, while Jughead was content with his erratic sleeping schedule, he knew Toni wasn't. She was the definition of a night owl, instantly becoming hyper aware the second all daylight was gone. Did the girl sleep? Well, if she didn't, her caramel colored skin hid any dark circles around her eyes pretty well. She had spent the _entire_ night out with an unlikely girl, with a temperament as fiery as her red hair. It took a special sort of patience to deal with her, a patience Jughead _knew_ Toni didn't have, so to be here, as opposed to sleeping, meant a lot.

Nonetheless, Jughead pushed his freshly filled cup of coffee aside and regarded his friend with a tired smile that matched her own.

"You're a hard person to get in touch with, Topaz."

Despite it, Toni rolled her eyes. "Oh please Jones, you only say that when you lose contact with me for a day," she laughed then, her face lighting up, "I can't imagine the devastation you'd be in if this thing with the crazy chick works out and we can no longer have our daily grope sessions."

Toni meant it as a joke, obviously, but judging by how fast the lazy smirk fell off Jughead's lips, maybe meant that he wasn't in the best of moods.

Treading with caution, she pursed her lips. "So, what's up? You sounded like hell when you called last week," she leaned her head on her palm, concern written all over her face. "Are you okay?"

His given sigh turned into a frown and Jughead felt the weight of all the hours of sleep he missed out on suddenly slipped onto his shoulders. "I had a talk with my dad last week."

Toni noticed his change immediately and frowned. It seemed that whenever they hung out, Jughead always found some way for his melancholy attitude to lower the quality of the conversation and make the time pass by so slowly. Beneath the table, she crossed her fingers and hoped this conversation wouldn't be one of those.

Jughead shot her a quick glance before he continued. "He wants me to leave the Serpents."

She knew she shouldn't of been, but FP's request surprised the hell out of her. Since the night of FP's retirement party, she was around the men often enough to know something was off with FP, _especially_ when Jughead was around. Despite what Sweet Pea would brag about to Jughead, he would often complain to her why FP constantly dragged _him_ around on missions when he had his own kid to bother.

"Wow. That was not what I was expecting." Another pause. "Like, at all."

But the thing was, deep down inside, Toni _was_ expecting it. Jughead's growing attachment to the Serpents was unlike anything she had ever seen before. She was there, at the ripe age of 13, when Sweet Pea underwent his own initiation and, before Jughead came along, thought him to be the fiercest protector of Serpent values. All it took was two months and a severed connection from the Northside for Jughead to literally transform into a whole new person- an _angrier_ , impulsive, and irrational one.

She noticed it, Sweet Pea did too, so it was no surprise his own father would pay attention to his change as well.

"But…" Toni carried off, catching Jughead's glum expression with an arched brow, "I can't say I'm surprised."

Jughead frowned. "What? Why?"

Hog Eye stopped by that moment, bringing Toni a glass of coke and a glass of water to Jughead, having noted his now ignored cup of coffee. She gave the old man a small smile in thanks before she began. "Take a moment to self-reflect, Jughead. Why would your dad want you to leave the Serpents?"

Jughead snorted. "He basically says I'm taking things too seriously and I won't be happy in the long run." He shook his head as he took a sip of his water. A nice change compared to the bitter brew he'd been drinking for the last couple hours. "He says I'm 'making all the same mistakes he's making'."

Toni frowned. "Your dad cares about you, Jughead. He loves you and he's a father and he wants what's best for his kid. I mean, if I had a kid, I'd want to give them the best." She brought her glass of coke to her lips before a thoughtful look flashed across her face. She tilted her head a little when she looked at him. "Wouldn't you?"

A suppressed memory of a belly and his hand flashed across his mind and he frowned. It was only for a split second, but it was a split second too long. "That's not the point."

If she noticed the annoyance in his curt response, she didn't show it. Shrugging, she took a sip of her drink. "I think it is."

"What about you? If your grandpa wanted you out of the Serpents, would you leave if he said it was for the best?" His voice was hard and he pressed hard, the classical expression of an angry Jughead showing in his flared nose and furrowed brows.

Toni pondered for a bit. The relationship she had with her grandfather was everything to her. Despite not striving for his constant approval, she respected his opinions and his decisions and vice versa. "I… I never really thought about it, to be honest. The boys... " she smiled a little, "the boys have always been a part of my life, Jughead. I literally grew up with people like Tall Boy and Hog Eye acting like some sort of distant relative. To leave them, I feel like I'd be leaving a whole part of who I am."

"Exactly."

"But," she pressed, "if at any point in time, I knew the Serpents were putting me in more danger than I could handle, _and_ my granddad was making some serious points… I would think about it."

"Well, I think I've had enough time to think about anything," he brought his fist down on the table hard enough to rattle their drinks and have Toni's eyes widen, "I'm not leaving the Serpents, Toni, I won't give up on them."

As much as she wanted to smile and laugh and congratulate him on his devotedness, there was something off about it. If anything, it sounded like he was trying to convince _himself_ he wasn't leaving as opposed to telling her he had no plans of the sort, but something he had said previously caught her attention. "Wait, what mistakes did your dad make that you're doing now?"

Jughead brought his glass of water for a long drink, thinking about her question for only a second. "He says his life- _our lives_ \- wouldn't be as bad if he hadn't got involved with the Snakes."

She cocked a brow. An interesting concept. "Do you think he's wrong?"

And just like that, the false bravado of confidence he had only moments ago faltered. He had put thought into it; maybe things _would_ be a little different if FP hadn't continued to fall into the help of the Serpents, he admitted it to himself a while ago.

Maybe his mom might of still been around. Maybe his dad's relationship with Mr. Andrews wouldn't of been as strained as it is now…

Or maybe he would of been completely assimilated into the Northside facade and treated people he now considered his family like trash.

Because of this, he glowered a bit, casting his eyes away to hide the shame he knew Toni could see in his eyes. "Not… _entirely wrong_ ," he said through clenched teeth, picking up his glass to twirl around the pieces of melted ice and water, "but I think he's exaggerating."

"I wouldn't say that," Toni began, her eyes never leaving his, "your dad is a smart man, Jug. If he's seeing something happen and he doesn't want it to repeat, I'm pretty sure he'd do what he can do make sure it doesn't," she took a weighted second to see his reaction and when he gave none, she continued, "but keep in mind that he'd also your father and you're his son. He loves you, Jughead, and he's not going to force you to quit."

"Because he knows I won't!" Jughead said, a bit exasperated that Toni wasn't seeing the point he was trying to make.

Toni sighed again, fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the sheer stubbornness Jughead radiated. "We know you won't leave, Jug, but your dad wants you to weigh your risks of not leaving."

"Oh, you mean of never marrying or having kids?" He scoffed. "I'm 16, why would I need to think about that now?"

"FP is 47, a father, and divorced," she challenged, "and apparently, he still needs to find the need to worry in the first place."

And she was right.

Of course, Jughead was only a teenager, so in theory, he didn't have to worry about the prospect of a family until at least a decade, if he were careful, but… what about the 'what if's'? What if he made a monumental mistake and found himself with a child? Well, if he were honest with himself, it would practically destroy any positive thing he ever wanted to do for himself, like graduate high school and go to college.

Help would always be available to him in the form of the Serpents, but… could he give that child the same life his own father had given him?

The pensive look that had overcome Jughead's face told Toni enough. His mouth was set in a hard line and his jaw was incredibly tense, clenching in such a way that she knew his teeth were going to be sore the second she snapped him out of it.

She gave out a loud sigh, a bit exaggerated to catch his attention, but loud enough to have him snap his eyes to her. "What about your future, Jones? And be honest with me here. We talk about everything and anything all the time, but the second I ask you where you see yourself in five years, you navigate the conversation back onto something you're comfortable with. Don't think I haven't noticed."

At this, Jughead widened his eyes. It wasn't like he was avoiding her questions in the first place, it was just sometimes he needed time to really solidify his answers. He _eventually_ always got back to the same topic in the first place. "I… I don't-"

"And let me stop you right there. I'm being serious, Jughead, I don't want to hear your macabre-fied version your pseudo sad boy persona plans on giving me. I want you to think and I want you to give me a real answer." Her plea touched him and he sighed. Half tempted to piss her off and tell her exactly what she didn't want to hear, he knew the seriousness of the conversation no longer held room for his tasteless jokes.

"To-..." she gave him a hard stare, "I… don't know what I want, Toni."

"All right, well, let's go in chronological order of what a Northsider would consider a 'perfect life', shall we?" He scoffed and crossed his arms, but made no attempt to stop her. "Do you want to go to college?"

An easy question. Easy questions Jughead could do.

"It's… an entertaining thought," Jughead admits, "I never really put much thought into… school. I've always been subpar, at best." He chuckled a little. "It's funny, when my mom was still around, she'd tell me stories of when she was in college, how her classes went and everything," another laugh, "it's actually how she met my dad."

Toni's face went blank for a second, no doubt in shock. "No shit, _FP_ went to college?"

It was honest, and he knew she didn't mean it to be offensive, but Jughead couldn't stop himself from laughing. " _My_ dad? _College_? No, he didn't. He tells me he was lucky enough to graduate high school."

"That's FP for you," she mumbled. Taking another sip of her coke, she brought her hands together and leaned against the table, ready to continue her questioning. "Well, you didn't say no, and you're not against the idea, so I'm going to think you're on the fence waiting around for a reason to push you to going. Alright, next question," she took a second to think before her face lit up. Jughead found it endearing. "What would you study if you did?"

"You know this already Toni. English, journalism… maybe communications. Something with the written word, I don't know."

She was impressed, but not surprised, and with reason. She knew he loved to write, loved to read, and loved words in general. For him to of picked something he would no doubt make a career off of was almost pointless. This was Jughead Jones, aspiring author and writer.

But now, if Jughead had given a different answer, something along the lines of astrophysics or biomedical chemistry, _then_ her eyebrows would have lifted off her head and through the roof of the Wyrm in a split second. "Solid answers, solid answers. I would ask you to elaborate, but then you're give me another one of your manuscripts that's thicker than the Old Testament explaining why, so I'll pass."

A small chuckle erupted from his lips as Jughead waited patiently for her next question, but she seemed to be lost in thought. Gone was the smile she was wearing only moments before. Must of only took a second, honestly, because her face had become contemplative; the same look he saw on his dad's face right before he asked him his age was the exact same look Toni was wearing now. If her next question was anything like what triggered his last big lecture, he didn't want to hear it.

Toni was quiet for a second longer than she should have, and Jughead could tell she was struggling with voicing her question. The familiar feeling of anxiety was bubbling in the pit of his stomach and he knew he should probably shift the conversation into something he could handle. She even said it herself- he was good at that. "You know, I think it's getting pretty late, I should p-"

"Would you like to see yourself married one day?"

And he stopped.

Marriage was such a complicated topic. Everywhere Jughead looked, it seemed no one knew how to do 'marriage' right. His parents couldn't do 'marriage' right; they were separated and, as a result, his family was too. Archie's parents couldn't do 'marriage' right; Mr. and Mrs. Andrews were in the process of finalizing their divorce. Betty's parents were together, but anything with eyes and an ability to critically think could see any love shared between the two had died _ages_ ago. Maybe at one point they were successful, but even the Coopers couldn't do 'marriage' right.

"Marriage… you mean forever?" It was a weak joke that fell flat on Jughead's tongue.

Because Riverdale seemed to be the town of failed marriages; the notion of an ultimate union bounded by limited drive in the form of love repulsed Jughead. Maybe at one point, the warm feeling Jughead felt in his heart when he'd witness his dad hug his mom, or when his mom would randomly seek out FP's hand when they were doing little mundane things like watch TV was something he aspired to feel when he was older, but that was at one point.

In rare instances that he allowed himself to indulge in such ludicrous thoughts for a moment, Jughead would picture an alternative universe, where there was no North or Southside, no Serpents or Ghoulies, where he and Betty were allowed to be together without the fear of a hooded assailant watching their every move. In such an alternative universe, if it allowed them, could he and Betty… if they worked… get maybe of gotten 'marriage' right?

But the moment had passed and so did any thoughts it brought of the beautiful blonde. "It's… a nice concept when you look at the bare bones version society takes it as: a life partner," to hide the faint signs of his blossoming blush, Jughead rushed, "but entirely unrealistic. Marriage isn't forever."

"It's not," Toni agreed, playing with the ice in her empty glass, "but that doesn't mean that love isn't."

He scowled at her. "Love is stupid because it's fragile."

She cocked a brow. An interesting concept. Deciding to save that little piece for later, she shrugged her shoulders and waved her hand in front of her face. "Any kids?"

"No." His instantaneous answer surprised Toni more that it did Jughead.

To picture himself as a father- _his_ father- was harrowing and terrifying and something he wanted no part of. Simply put, he wasn't ready for it, and he probably wouldn't be for a _very_ long time.

He caught the rise of her eyebrows and he felt the need to justify his answer. "I… I'm not ready for them. Could I want them in the future? Maybe… if I was ready." Jughead didn't know why, but the talk of children reminded him of Archie. "It's funny," Jughead started, catching Toni's attention, "when I was living with Archie, he talked about his future a lot. Fred did too, actually."

"You had this conversation with them, then?" She interrupted. Jughead shook his head.

"They tried, but I never gave them anything to work off of," he said, "but Fred always wanted Archie to get married as soon as he was out of college. It's funny because Archie was… _eh…_ about the idea of marriage, but Archie has _always_ wanted kids," at this, Jughead chuckled, "he wanted a lot of them, six at least."

He laughed then, the memory dulling the ache his head was starting to hold. "One time, when we were younger, Betty mentioned that her mom wanted Polly to have lots of kids- I don't remember how many, but enough to have Betty want only one," he was too caught up in recalling that particular scene to notice her curious expression, "and Archie laughs and tells her that, when they get married, he would want at least three more."

The small smile that graced his face at recalling an innocent childhood memory was only on his face for a moment. He told himself he wouldn't mention Betty. Their situation was something entirely different and it didn't need to be brought up at the moment. When the time came, he'd figure it out, just not now.

But, like always, Toni had other plans. The girl was incredibly sharp, sharper than Jughead gave her credit for, so when she broached the same topic he had been dead-set on avoiding, he shouldn't have been surprised. "I haven't mentioned it, or even brought it up because I wanted to give you your space, but… how are you? You know, after everything?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry."

The thing was though, Toni did have reason to worry. The night after the retirement party, when she saw Jughead stalk back into the Wyrm without his girl by his side and a heartbroken expression on his face, she guessed they had an argument. She had found out through FP two days later it was because he had broken up with her.

While Jughead didn't look that much better sitting across from her now, she had to admit that he looked more alive, if not barely, than when she first saw him.

When she had seen him the day after FP told her, she found him on the couch in his trailer, eyes red (from what she assumed was crying) with deep dark circles from lack of sleep framing them. His hair was an oily, tangled mess and the shirt he wore was rumbled.

He seemed to acknowledge her when she walked in, and by acknowledging, she meant his eyes locked with hers. She had told him to get his shit together, to take a shower and dress because she was going to take him to eat something what wasn't microwaveable burgers or plastic ramen.

It took a while, but when she finally had him stuffing his face with a third burger at Pop's, Toni was able to coax just a bit of information. She didn't get much, but just enough to understand that he was in agony.

After three weeks, it seemed that he was _still_ in agony, if her presence, along with the seven cups of coffee before him, meant anything.

Even with the space between them, Jughead could hear the gears in her brain grind together, her brows furrowed in concentration. "Didn't you…" Toni carried off again, leaning her head on her hand and pointing her finger at him, "didn't you say that ginger boy just broke up with his girlfriend?"

For some reason, the way she casually mentioned Archie, even if she wasn't saying his name directly, felt like there was a double meaning behind her question. Regardless, the hairs on the back of his neck stood erect.

"Same day I ended things with Betty," he grumbled out, "what about it?"

Toni shrugged her shoulders, tucking a strand of the her colorful pink hair behind her ear. "Have you seen them since? It's been three weeks."

"I don't want to bother her," he gave, "she's been through a lot."

Just like the urge to roll her eyes, Toni bit back the need to fight his stupid answer. "And the redhead?" She questioned.

"I… don't know. I haven't spoken to Archie since the day he helped me in dropping off one of Penny's crates."

"Huh," she said, cocking her head and giving him a pointed look, one that told him she wasn't satisfied with his answer. "Interesting."

"What are you trying?" He growled. "Unless you have a point with this, I suggest you drop it, Toni."

"My point," she said, "is your reaction." She didn't bother hiding the roll of her eyes when she saw him puff out his chest in defense, so she was quick to continue before he dragged her away from a topic she was ready to fully tread, even if he wasn't. "Why react at all if you have no plans in trying to fix _your_ mistake?"

Jughead scoffed. "I need to protect her. She's not made for this kind of stuff."'

She raised a brow. He didn't bother correcting her when she referred to their break up as his mistake. Interesting. "You think she can't handle it?"

He shook his head, his shoulders sagging with a release of breath. "No, I know she can, but Betty isn't made for this."

Again, the need to challenge Jughead's statements was always so strong. It was kind of a miracle they were so compatible in the first place. "What _is_ she made for then, Jughead? Because I think she'd have an issue with you believing she needs to be locked away in a glass container, or that she's this fragile doll that'll break at any moment." But seeing as there was no point in trying to fight the urge anymore, she allowed herself to berate him. "She helped you solve the murder of Jason Blossom! You don't think she's _made_ for _this_? This girl has been exposed to dead bodies and breaking the law, and you're getting all protective over what? Gang violence and involvement in dealing some harmless recreational plant?"

She noted his clenching fist and his flaring nose. Jughead would never strike her, she knew this like she knew how to breathe, but for a second she was worried he might literally explode from maybe from bottling up everything he foolishly had a tendency of inside.

Toni was betting the $12 dollars in her pocket, her Serpent jacket, and trailer for the latter. With so much on the line, it only made sense to Toni to gauge him a little further.

"I've got to tell you, Jones, if that's the basis of you breaking things off with her, then I'm pretty sure that redhead you're best friends would probably treat her better than you ever did." She noted his startled expression and went head-on, ignoring the uneasiness in her stomach. "Didn't you mention that she was also best friends with the redhead? One who's also heartbroken about his own breakup? The heartache _one_ person feels can cause chaos… just imagine what two people can do… _together_."

She knocked the breath out of his lung and Jughead was sure he couldn't breathe. He hadn't meant to piss Toni off and he had thought their friendship was good enough to prevent her from slicing his jugular and watching him bleed out, but… this?

"Too far." He choked out and for a split second Toni wondered if she really _had_ gone too far.

It was a low blow, throwing the meaningless kiss they shared when Betty (via Archie) had broken up with him and then insinuating his best friend and ex-girlfriend were doing the same. Despite the momentary guilt she felt, the fire in her eyes never left though. Now, the classical expression of an angry Toni appeared, face blank and eyes unmoving.

"I think I can summarize the reason why your dad was trying to convince you to leave the Serpents. I've got to say, Jones, Betty's a pretty remarkable girl. I don't have to know her to know she's a straight A student, on the cheer team to chunk up her college application. I don't have to read her articles to know she is one determined girl who writes in such that could get a whole town to believe FP Jones was innocent."

Whatever project, class, or assignment she tackled was guaranteed to come out superb. As much as he hated it, being with her improved him overall. He became a better writer, a better friend, a better human being during the time that he was with Betty; just like one of her projects.

When he told her this, almost as if he had slapped her, Toni reeled back. "You're kidding, right?" When his hard gaze didn't break, when his nostrils didn't stop flaring, she rolled her eyes and groaned. "You obviously aren't her project if she was willing to do the Dance. Nobody does the Dance without a reason," she might not of had the resolve to hold back her criticism, but she was strong enough to hold back the shower of insults she wanted to rain on the boy, "you happened to be hers."

"Goddamnit!" He slammed his open hand on the table, hard enough to rattle their long forgotten drinks and the single spoon Jughead kept to stir his coffee. "I know she loves me! I'm just mad..."

He struggled to find his words and Toni gave him the time to look for them. It was _this_ particular reaction she was trying to get out of him all morning. It was her only reason for being here at all. She might not of known him the way the blonde did, Toni had a pretty good understanding of how Jughead processed things.

He always kept everything bottled up. Always suppressed in an effort to make them go away. She knew the second she walked into the bar and saw the several cups of coffee he had (and the unthinkable refills he had for each one), he was still in the process of bottling up anything he talked about with FP.

She got it. Understood it all. At FP's party, when he thought she wasn't looking, Toni caught the small look of love and adoration FP gave to the girl in question. He thought highly of her and honestly, as much as she didn't want too, it was hard not to like at least one of Betty Cooper's all-consuming traits.

So it made sense the reason why FP wanted Jughead out of the Serpents was in an effort to not have him have to chose between the girl or the gang. Maybe Jughead saw it, and maybe he didn't, but whether he liked it or not, Betty Cooper was good for him.

"I… love her so much, T." It came out a whisper, his voice so soft, that she almost didn't catch it. "I… I don't want her getting hurt. It'd kill me if she did," Jughead's voice cracked a little and he cleared his voice to continue, "I know she's not some fragile doll I can't protect. She might not be a perfect person, and we both know that I'm far from it, but both of us, together, we're…" the way he trailed off, his facial expression along with it, made Toni's heart break. "It's only temporary; the split," he explained, but there was an edge to his voice, almost doubtful. "When this whole thing with the Hood blows over, I know we'll fix it."

Doubt. A tone she wouldn't have expected was the only thing she was hearing.

Doubt. An emotion he didn't want was the only thing he was feeling.

Since the discovery of Southside High's shutdown and subsequent discovery that they'd be moving to Riverdale High, Jughead had been in agony. The thought of being in the same school, or passing by a room that once acted as a nursery for their love to grow, was agony. Ever since their break-up, his dream, and his dad's conversation, Jughead found himself doing everything he could to forget the blonde. Hell, he didn't even want to describe the feeling in his stomach when she walked into the diner the day he went to talk to his dad.

In the deepest part of his heart, in the deepest part of his mind, he hoped for a reunion. He'd known her all his life and they always seemed to come back together. Like the one time he tugged on her braids in elementary as a joke and he snapped her hair tie and she didn't know how to fix her hair and she cried. He felt horrible the rest of the day and the next that followed, but he apologized, and they were fine.

But only this time he didn't snap her hair tie.

No, this time Jughead was pretty sure he had broken her heart.

Toni felt the need to break him out of his melancholy thoughts. "I know you love your girl, Jughead. I think everyone here knows you love her. She knows it too," she comforted him, reaching across the table to grab one of his hands. Giving him a reassuring squeeze, she let go. "Love can make people do a lot of things, Jughead. Love was what made your dad spend time behind bars. The… _absence_ of love was what caused this 'dark cloud' in Riverdale in the first place."

A grim expression washed over Jughead's face. Clifford Blossom mustn't of loved Jason at all; really must of _hated_ him to of had the nerve to look his only son in the eye and send a bullet in a face he had raised since it was a squirmy newborn.

"You love your girl so much, you'd be willing to spend all this time hurting without her to make sure she's safe," she said softly, a gentle smile on her lips, "that's _love_ , Jughead."

Despite his weary smile, Jughead repeated himself. "But love is stupid because it's fragile."

She shrugged her shoulders, agreeing with him. "It's different. You know, it's a new experience and people like new things." She paused for a second before she laughed. "Sweet Pea is waiting on him falling in love, _pines_ over it like a little girl. I think it's the cutest thing in the world, to be honest."

"But… _staying_ in love, that's why it's fragile. People don't know how to do that anymore. If my parents stayed in love, my life would be nothing like what it is now. If your parents…" she trailed off then, shifting her eyes nervously to see his reaction. She wouldn't finish the sentence and Jughead not only got the message, but was grateful she didn't.

If his parents had still been in love, he'd be on the same boat.

"But…just because everyone in this damn town can't seem to make it work… _I_ wouldn't give up the opportunity of falling and _staying_ in love with my soul mate for anything in this world, Jughead, and… I think you wouldn't either."

Jughead's eyes snapped up to look at Toni and they softened. This was the end scenario in Jughead's alternate universe. He and Betty, indefinitely happy… _together_.

"I'll catch you later, Jones," she grabbed her book bag and her jacket from the back of the chair, swirling it around to slide it over her arms in an exaggerate display that made Jughead roll his eyes, "I have to sleep some before I see that crazy chick from the Northside again." Grabbing the side of his head, Toni leaned him in to place a wet kiss on the side of his head, something that made Jughead give out a laugh and push her off gently.

The girl that was really becoming his best friend left him with a smile before she slid out of the Wyrm.

And really, despite it all, what had started off as seeking Toni's opinion on a discussion he and FP had about his involvement and future with the Serpents had somehow transformed into another discussion about his future with Betty.

Love was stupid because it was fragile. But was _love_ stupid? Or just the people dealing with it? Was it really fragile? Or was it how the people dealing with it handled it?

Grabbing his last cup coffee, now ice cold and even more bitter, Jughead poured in an ungodly amount of milk and sugar, watching the black brew swirl with the added mix of cream before it turned into a dull blonde color. Taking tentative sips, Jughead mused that he, as a stupid person who never knew how to handle love, would never know.

* * *

 _To be continued!_

 _I hope to bring this to a close with two, maybe three, more chapters. If the CW continues to give me Bughead scenes as good as those in episode 2x12 and 2x13, I think I can dish this out by the end of my spring semester!_

 _Again, thank you to those who took the time to review. They do make me happy and give me a general sense of how I'm doing so far. So, again, reviews and feedback are appreciated. Let me know what you guys think._


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